


This Shadow Hanging Over Me Is No Trick of the Light (Loose Affiliation, Part Six)

by spuffyduds



Series: Loose Affiliation [6]
Category: due South
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is part of a series that starts off in the middle of "Victoria's Secret" and carries on from there, with unacknowledged sexual tension and then unresolved sexual tension and then sex.  And tension.  The main departure from canon is that "North" didn't happen.</p>
    </blockquote>





	This Shadow Hanging Over Me Is No Trick of the Light (Loose Affiliation, Part Six)

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series that starts off in the middle of "Victoria's Secret" and carries on from there, with unacknowledged sexual tension and then unresolved sexual tension and then sex. And tension. The main departure from canon is that "North" didn't happen.

After a couple of minutes Ray starts to feel like he could possibly stand up even if Fraser didn't have him pinned against the counter, like maybe his legs are functioning again. He shifts his hips a little experimentally, just to be sure, and Fraser gives out a hiccupy surprised moan and goes from just shivering to rocking his hips hard against Ray's. Which, since Fraser's got wool pants on, and Ray's still unzipped and unboxered and hanging out and extra-sensitive from, Jesus Christ, the _blowjob_ Fraser just gave him, actually hurts.

He gasps and grabs Fraser's hips, moves him away a little, and Fraser's face flashes hurt for half a second and then shuts back down to neutral, dammit, and Ray says, "No, wait, just--ow."

"Oh," Fraser says. "Sorry," but he still looks like he's steadying his face.

Ray waves his hands so that he can start talking, so he can explain somehow that Fraser doesn't need to _do_ that, but then he figures out that he can talk dressed or he can talk naked but he can't talk with most of his clothes on and his dick hanging out. So he pulls his pants and boxers back up, zips and buttons.

Fraser's just standing there, but he's got this waiting look now, like the infuriating one he gets in the middle of an argument over a case. Like he's just presented this airtight lawyery perfect paragraph of why he's right, and he's just giving Ray a minute to realize it. Which is unfair, because he's hardly said anything in the last few minutes that wasn't a slurping noise.

And Ray gets it then, gets that the thing to do here, the "yeah, okay, dammit, you're right" thing to do here is what Fraser just did, is to hit his knees on the kitchen floor and get Fraser's pants down, but. He's not freaking out about the actual blowjob part, at least he doesn't think he is, because it's Fraser, and Fraser would--smell good and taste good, he would _have_ to, wouldn't he? But the knees part--that's weird. Hot when Fraser did it, yeah, Ray's mouth actually waters when he thinks about looking down to see Fraser's hair, to see Fraser just—-eyes closed and mouth open and looking _grateful_, like Ray was doing _him_ a favor, but--

Ray grabs Fraser's shirt and hauls him over to the bed instead. Kicks his shoes off, god, he just got blown with his _shoes_ still on. Watches while Fraser gets _his_ boots off, which takes forever, _Frannie_ has less complicated shoes than that. Which takes his brain to an unpleasant place where he's trying to explain--whatever the hell this _is_\--to Frannie.

"Hurry up," he says, and Fraser gives him a surprised grin, gets the last bit of lace undone, sheds the boots and stretches out. Takes hold of his henley where it's still tucked into his pants, tugs a little, looks a question at Ray. And Ray doesn't know the answer, doesn't know if this should be a naked wallowing thing or a quick _efficient_ thing, shrugs desperately at Fraser.

And Fraser stops pulling at his shirt, puts his hands behind his head on the pillow and just lies back, looks at Ray, leaving it all up to him. Just fucking _great_.

Ray takes a deep breath, gets onto the bed, on his side so they'll both fit, and just skims his hand across Fraser's crotch. And Fraser bucks up, his hips jerk up off the bed and he actually _whimpers_, God. That's--that's _good_, Ray wants him to do it again, so he slides an arm under Fraser's neck and pulls them tight together, cups that other hand down _firmly_ on Fraser's dick, and yeah, Fraser does it again, rocks his scratchy pants up hard into Ray's hand, makes an unFrasery noise, flutters his eyelids, _yeah_.

This is good. This is very good, and Ray gets Fraser's pants and boxers down, clumsy and fast, then takes a long look. Uncut's not a surprise because god knows how many neighboring-urinal conversations they've had by this point, but he's never just looked and looked like this (wanted to, he can let himself think that now, he _wanted_ to) and he doesn't even realize he's done just looking until he's surprised to find his hand there, and moving. He buries his face in Fraser's neck for a second to hide it, because those first few seconds the way the skin's shifting under his hand feels really _wrong_, but then after a couple of strokes it changes from wrong to just different, and then from different to interesting, and then--then Fraser's making that noise nonstop, thrusting up into Ray's hand, pitching his hips up and down and sideways, and his hands come down from behind his head and fist up frantically in the back of Ray's shirt. Fraser's eyes are closed and he's gasping in breath to make that noise and for once he's not doing anything careful with his face, his face is just _happening_.

"God, Benny," Ray says, "you're--you're just so--" but he can't think of a word that works without sounding--_beautiful, gorgeous, exquisite_, they're all too--and then it doesn't matter because Fraser's coming. And coming, and coming, _and_.

"Jesus," Ray says. "Geez, Benny, don't you ever--" but Fraser looks at him, and Fraser looks--completely slack-jawed and _stupid_, brain totally shorted out, and Ray cracks up. "Stupid's a good look on you," he says, and then winces--maybe not the best time to be insulting--but Fraser just gives him a big dumb smile and then surprises Ray again by closing his eyes and snoring.

Ray taps a finger on Fraser's nose a couple of times. Nope, he's _gone_.

Ray lies there for a while, works his arm out from under Fraser's neck before it goes numb. And he can _feel_ a bunch of Big Questions swirling around in the dark of the apartment, trying to get into his head, but not right now. Not right now. He just concentrates on the last little while, on how Fraser's mouth felt on him, on how lost and happy Fraser looked under his hand, and after a while Ray fades out too.

*******************************************************

He snaps awake to a tiny noise, or a shift in the air of the apartment, or _something_ that makes him sit up fast, thinking, somebody's here, not Dief, not us, somebody _else_, and he's trying to remember where his gun is when a shape steps into the barred patch of light from the streetlight coming in the window, and. Of course.

"Pop,' he says, to cover the flinch that he gets, every damn time. He _hates_ that flinch but it always takes him a second to remember, _he's not really here, he's not really here and you're taller than him, stronger, have been since you were fifteen, and he hasn't raised a hand to you since then, since you finally snapped and **showed** him you were bigger and stronger, the fucking coward._

Ray stands up and he's suddenly gone from fighting off the flinch and cringe, to completely fucking _furious_, because Pop is here in Fraser's apartment. _Fraser's_, and he has _no right_.

He balls his fists up and advances, ready for anything, ready for Pop to go back to a slap or a swing or a _told you you were a little fucking faggot, didn't I?_

But he's not ready for what happens, which is that Pop just gives him a _look_, a completely disgusted, dismissive, _tired_, not-even-worth-my-time look. Doesn't bother with a word or a swing, just turns his back and disappears.

Ray stands there, and he's shaking, because everything he had ready, all the "you got no right to say anything at all about my life," and the "you stay the fuck away from Fraser, because gay or whatever he's still ten times the man you ever were"--all that's got nowhere to _go_, now.

He spins on his heel, steps back to the bed. Drops to his knees now and licks down Fraser's stomach, gets his mouth on Fraser's cock. Fraser's growing in his mouth, shifting his hips, moaning himself awake, and Ray's licking and sucking. The come from before tastes--new, odd, but okay, and it's dried in Fraser's pubic hair and made it sort of crispy under Ray's cheek, and Fraser's all hot in Ray's mouth and definitely awake now, thrusting up and trying to talk but only managing one syllable at a time, Ray, yes, oh, yes, _you_. And yeah, this would probably be _good_, Ray would probably be actually enjoying it, knees and all, if he weren't so fucking angry.

He keeps it up until, just at the point when his jaw's starting to ache, Fraser gasps, "Move, stop, now, _Ray--_" and he pulls off just in time to watch Fraser shooting off again. And yeah, in the dim light from the street it's beautiful, Fraser's beautiful, and Ray manages to say it this time, just a whisper of "beautiful" but he's not sure if Fraser hears it anyway.

He gets up and gets a washcloth, wets it and wrings it out, brings it back for Fraser. And while Fraser's cleaning up Ray strips off, everything, throws all his clothes down on the floor and glares at every dark corner of the room, then climbs into bed beside Fraser, who shimmies out of his clothes too and shifts to lying on his side so he and Ray are facing.

Fraser bumps their foreheads together gently, sighs, says, "Nice way to wake up," in a soft slurry voice, a _new_ voice, like you took his regular voice and poured cream in it. "What was...why?"

"I," Ray says. "Nothing. Just you. Just you," and Fraser sighs again, happily, and sort of tucks his face into Ray's chest. And Ray takes fucking forever to go back to sleep, because he keeps thinking, I just hope the old bastard was _watching_.

 

\--END--


End file.
